Date: Mon, 6 Jun 2005 14:16:08 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Labourer, Part  24

THE LABOURER  by Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories in
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part 24

Craig and I couldn't sleep after all that, and as Rob
had run out leaving the door unlocked, we decided to
go for a swim.  There's something very special about
swimming entirely naked that I'd never appreciated
before when I had to be more conventional.  And I also
understand now why so many of those gay films are set
in pools - it's really erotic to be able to stand and
kiss, and play with your partner, when you're
partially supported by water.  We laughed and joked
with each other (quietly, so as not to disturb the
impregnation of Karen!), and we specially "baptised"
the new pool paving by pissing all over it, watching
the streams of yellow run off and into their pool!

The weeks of the break were soon over, however, and it
was back to my normal routine of weekdays at college
and home, and weekends at Rooney's.  I'd like to think
that the more "mature" attitude I'd shown to Rob
carried over to college, but the more I simply sat
there and took the abuse that the other guys hurled t
me, egged on by Trent, the worse it seemed to get.
They'd heard about my failure with that girl, too, and
far from being "sorry" for me as most of the women
were, they now added new levels to their taunting, as
they started to suggest that I couldn't get it up at
all!  It was getting to the point where I was really
miserable about any of the time not spent in classes:
there was just nowhere on the campus it seemed to me
where there wasn't some guy waiting to abuse me:  I
felt really out of it all.  And to make it worse, I
wasn't used to this:  at High School I'd been really
popular, as I was a real jock, on the football team
and doing well for the school in track and field.   So
now it was just awful to have no friends, and to be
followed by taunting where ever I went.

My only escape at the lunch break was to go to the
phys ed building, and, if  I thought about it, that
was  pretty humiliating, too.  I mean, it's OK to be
jerked off by another guy if you've ordered him to do
it, isn't it?  But this wasn't like that:  the
department head ordered me to strip as he sat there
and looked at my body;  then he made me stand there in
front of him as he jerked me off, whilst with his
other hand he spread my legs and forced his finger up
my ass so he could rummage around for my prostate.

Look, I don't know about you, but I hate jerking off
when I'm standing up - somehow it makes me weak at the
knees, and it just isn't comfortable when you're about
to shoot as you want to thrust your hips forward as if
you're fucking - it really is better to lie down
somewhere, or sprawl in a chair.  After the first few
times he introduced a new variation, too:  as he
sensed that I was about to cum, he'd pull his finger
out of my ass and then, as he continued to jerk at my
dick, he'd catch my cum in his hand.  That's another
thing I hated, too:  even though I'd cum, he'd keep on
jerking away at me to get all the "aftershocks", and
for me that's a big problem:  my dick gets really
sensitive once I've shot the first spurt, and I always
want to stop, just to leave it alone, and have it fire
the remaining ones by itself.  But not him - no, he
wanted to keep on jerking me, and that always made me
cry out as there's that exquisite feeling that's
partially pleasure, partly pain, partly tickling....
Well, I expect most of you know what it's like.  My
knees would almost buckle as I tried to stand there,
and I couldn't shout too loud in case anyone outside
in the corridor heard us.  Worst of all, though, was
that he then told me to kneel, and I had to squat
there and lap my cum from the palm of his hand - he
wanted it totally clean, he always said.  It's not the
taste of my cum that I object to - I don't mind it at
all, or any other guys', but it was just the
humiliation of having to kneel, then lap it up just as
if I was a dog being given a treat.  I didn't like the
soap he used, either:  his sweating hand was right
under my nose, and over the smell of my cum was the
heavy odour of some really floral scent, which almost
made me sneeze.

All in all, the time I spent at college during the day
was pretty miserable, and in some ways therefore going
home was a relief, even though things were not all
that great there.  It was clear that Joe was now my
father's favourite:  he always seemed to have a kind
word for him, Joe was neatly and expensively dressed
in smart casual clothes once he'd finished his work in
the grounds and the yard, and of course most nights
he'd share my father's bed and I'd hear them muttering
and laughing together before those unmistakable sounds
of fucking came through the bedroom walls.  I, on the
other hand, was just treated civilly by my father,
with him demanding to see my reports and grades,
requiring me to show him the projects I'd finished,
and so on.  Then, if they were not "up to standard",
as he said, he'd cane me:  not that it hurt
particularly as he rarely gave me more than six
strokes from a medium weight malaca.  No, it was more
the utter humiliation of the thing, being beaten as if
 was still in the first few grades.

I've told you how now I was only allowed to wear the
revealing short tunic as I served them dinner, well,
now I had to change in to it as soon as I entered the
house.  So if I was to be caned, as I bent over the
arm of the chair, or the table, or wherever my father
chose to do it, my bare ass was exposed to him and I
knew he could see my dick and balls swinging there
between my thighs.  Things got even worse when my
father decided that I should be a more general servant
around the house, and on the days when my father
wanted a break from fucking and Joe slept in the
second bed in my room, I now also had to act as a kind
of valet to him, and help him shower, dry him, and
hand him his clean clothes.  I know it doesn't sound
much, but you've got to remember that Joe started life
as the general young slave boy at Rooney's, and his
job was to attend to us in the showers, shaving our
balls  and cracks every week as Rooney demanded, and
keeping our pubes clipped and so on.  Whilst all this
was now done to me still when I was at Rooney's, it
was such a role reversal as I now had to kneel in
front of him as the water sluiced over us, and help
him clean up by soaping his dick and balls.  It's not
right, is it?  A mature, tough twenty eight year old
shouldn't have to minister like that to a seventeen
year old kid!

I once tried asking my father if I could have some
proper work shorts, or indeed anything other than the
tunic, to wear around the house, and if Joe couldn't
look after himself.  But he just looked at me, and
said, rather sternly, "You just don't get it, do you,
Steven?  After all those years of unruly behaviour you
need to learn to be submissive and serve others.  The
fact that you even ask these things continues to
demonstrate that you do not appreciate what I'm trying
to do for you."

"But, sir, it's so humiliating...", I said.

"Steven, it's in your own best interests.  Now, run
along, and fetch me the New York Times!".  As he said
this, my father actually gave me a little slap on the
butt, under the tunic.  Not as punishment, but as
encouragement.  I do wish people would stop doing
things that they say "are in my best interests!".

Look, I'm not saying that my father was cruel or
anything - after that first terrible caning he'd never
done more than use it almost symbolically to remind me
that he was displeased with my work or my grades -
compared to the way the overseers at Rooney's tawsed
us and caned us, it was like a gentle tap.  I was
jealous of Joe, I now realised - don't get me wrong, I
didn't want my father to fuck me (well, I don't want
anyone to fuck me, as you know) - but I disliked the
way they were getting closer and closer, the way they
shared little looks and jokes, and the way that he
could watch the games on TV, for example, whereas I
was sent up to my room to work.  It was just as if Joe
was becoming a kind of favoured son to my dad, and
having him come into the house like this and almost
displacing me was really hurtful.  Not that Joe tried
to take advantage of it, to his credit, I suppose:  he
never seemed to ask my father for special things
(well, not in my hearing, anyway - who knows what he
asked for when my dad's body was all over him after
he'd been fucked!). And when I was having to act as
his "valet", he seemed to be almost as uncomfortable
about it as I was.  No, it  was more as if I suddenly
realised that I didn't want to share my father with an
interloper - after my brothers had left home and dad
and I were alone together, I never really cared what
he wanted or what he did as I was too busy doing my
own stuff.  But now I found myself really resenting
the way in which Joe was somehow favoured, and I was
mostly ignored.

That semester, though, I did at least solve one thing
at college: the problem of Trent and the way he
encouraged all the others to sneer at me as I was a
slave.  I'd been going to the phys ed building so long
at lunch times now that it almost seemed to be routine
to have to strip so the head of the place could jerk
me off and finger my ass, and, to tell you the truth,
I no longer minded all that much.  After all, a guy
has to cum, doesn't he?  So apart from the slight
discomfort of having to stand there rather than to be
able to lie somewhere, I guess it was no big deal.
Three was a shift in my class schedules one week,
though, and I explained that I'd have to go there
later the next day, and to my surprise I was told to
give it a miss as the instructor was busy.  Well, he'd
never been busy before, so I cut a class (hoping that
the professor would not notice and wouldn't send a
message to my dad), and hung around in phys ed to see
what was actually going on.  That's not as easy as it
sounds - although it was now kind of accepted that I
could swim in the pool in the early mornings if I got
there early enough so there were few other students
around, there was no way I could use the facilities at
peak times of the day as there would have been
numerous complaints from other users about a slave
"soiling" the place.  I therefore had to pretend to be
on my way between other places on the campus, and kept
cutting through the building via its many entrances,
keeping my eyes skinned as I did so for activity in
the head's room.

My patience was ultimately rewarded when I saw Trent
go in, and then, as I was now circling the place
almost obsessively, I saw him leave about twenty
minutes later looking kind of flushed - the way I did
when I'd been jerked off!  Could it be that the chief
was using Trent as he used me?  I was somehow
convinced that it was:  the chief had a penchant for
big, fit guys I supposed, and as he was on the
football team and was pretty well built, it didn't
seem unlikely that Trent was being used as I was.
Look, I tried to do it nicely:  I managed to get Trent
alone shortly after that, and asked him to stop
persecuting me.  After all, I told him, it was getting
a bit boring, surely - it was clear that it wasn't
going to get me out of the place.

He wasn't even the tiniest bit conciliatory  though,
and snapped "No way!  Fucking slaves shouldn't be
allowed in this place!  At home we keep all the
servants well under control, and I don't want to come
to college and find myself sharing classes with a
fucking slave!  And if I ever find you in the showers
when me and the team are in there, you'll wish you'd
not, as we'll give you a shower, the sort slaves
deserve:  of our piss!"

"Look, Trent, I can't help it.  As you so often point
out I'm a slave, and I don't have any choice... My
owner wants me to come here, I have to..."

"Fucking slave!  Your owner doesn't teach you any
manners, evidently.  Don't you know all free men are
'mister'?"

"Look, Mister Trent, "  I had to force it out, but it
would be worth it to get him to stop.  "I can't help
being here, sir, and perhaps you could discuss it with
my owner..."

"Fucking no way!  Now, get out of my way, fucking
slave... And if I see you around this afternoon a few
of us will strip you and get you to do a few push-ups
for the class...".  He laughed evilly as he said this.


I was no longer trying to do it nicely now, and so
said, still quite calmly, though "And I'll tell them
about how you get jerked off in  phys ed.  Is that
something all the football team get as  special
coaching?"

He just stared at me.  I could tell from the look of
shock on his face that it was true, that I'd struck
home.  But he was going to bluff it out, evidently, as
he blustered "You spread lies about me or any of the
guys on the football team, and you'll be dead meat,
slave!  Now, get out of my way.  And if I see you at
break this afternoon, remember what I'll do!"

He strode off, and I didn't seem to be any further
advanced.  In fact I was worse off, I reckoned, as
they'd never threatened actual physical violence
before.  Trent and some of the football team had
swaggered past me, brushing me off the path and onto
the grass, that sort of stuff.  But this idea that
they'd strip me and make me perform in front of my
classmates was something new.  I felt really
miserable, and had to resort to hiding in-between
classes - and that's not the kind of thing I do as I
usually take things head-on:   but there was no way I
could fight off a gang of football players, I knew.

Having to slink around and keep hiding all the time
made life at college even worse, and I began to
realise how awful it was for kids to be bullied.  It
had never happened to me as I was always popular, and
tough.  But now I certainly wasn't popular, and I
found out how easy it was to incite a gang to turn on
an innocent person.  I desperately needed to do
something, and my chance came a couple of days later
when in my student pigeon hole there was a note from
the head of phys ed just saying "Meeting changed. Come
at 12:00."  I was free, as it so happened, so went
along there obediently and stood there as he made me
cum, thanked him, as he'd told me he expected me to,
and then, as I was going out, he said "Oh, and don't
come tomorrow at all, as I have a meeting all day, off
site."

As I was walking to the cafeteria (my father did not
allow me any money so I could not buy lunch as he said
that my bar of slave chow in the morning and in the
evening was perfectly adequate, but I knew that if I
hung around looking as if I was hungry, some girl
would take pity on me and give me a sandwich or
perhaps even a chocolate bar), Trent and a couple of
the football players swaggered past, elbowing and
jostling me off the path as usual.  That made up my
mind, and I changed direction, went back and dropped
the note that I'd had into Trent's pigeon hole.

The next day I cut another class, and was waiting in
the room when Trent knocked and came in.   He looked
shocked to see me there, and I moved behind him,
closing the door, so that we were alone.

"Out of my way, fucking slave!", he blustered, "I've
got a meeting in here with the head of phys ed."

"Yes, I know, Mister Trent!".  My voice emphasised the
"mister", contemptuously.  "I know all about your
meetings.  But he's not coming today, and I'm here
instead.  So drop those pants, Mister Trent, and then
you can jerk yourself off for me, as I don't touch
guys' cocks like yours, as you never know where
they've been..."

He blushed furiously, and tried to bluster his way out
of it again.  "You're mad!  Now, get out of my way..."

I was still standing between him and the door, and my
voice was icily calm as I said "Drop those pants,
Mister.  Or else I'll pull them down.   Without your
football buddies, with just you and me, I can, and I
will..."

It was him who started it - he lunged at me, trying to
throw the first punch. But it was no contest, of
course - even though he was gym fit, I had fifteen
pounds of solid muscle more than him from my "real
work", and I soon had him pushed down on to the desk,
with me grinding his face into the surface.  Actually,
once you've got the guy like that there's not a lot he
can do about it - my fingers were digging into the
sinews of his neck, and I struck gold almost
immediately, finding the two pressure points that
cause incredible pain with no trouble at all.

I could therefore pinion him in place with just one
hand and although he could squirm and wriggle, there
was no way he could get free.  My other hand went
underneath him, fumbling at his belt and the zipper on
this pants, and then I was able to almost rip them
down.    Like a lot of kids he wore "designer" stretch
boxers in grey, and it was a bit more tricky to get
those pulled down over his  butt, but then I was
standing in between his legs, looking down at his ass.
 I kicked at his ankles to force him to spread his
legs, slapped his butt a couple of times (and you know
I can do that really hard) to show him who was in
charge, and then casually spread his butt cheeks apart
so I could see his hole.

Trent was a hairy guy, but as I looked at it, I
realised he must have been shaving down there, as I
could see the dark, puckered skin of his hole and a
clear area stretching forward to his balls (which,
unlike mine, were however covered in his wiry, dark
brown hair).

"You shave your hole then", I said conversationally,
and, when he didn't reply, I pinched my fingers into
his neck, causing him to cry out.  "Answer me, fucker!
 What's a big macho football player doing shaving his
hole?  Do you and your team buddies go in for a bit of
real bonding...?", I snapped.

"No!  But he makes me do it, for when I come here...."

I let go of his butt, brought my hand up to my face
and slathered my middle finger with spit, then went
back down to his butt.  I pushed my finger into his
hole quite easily, and he groaned as I did, that sort
of groan we al l hear guys make as they don't know
whether to be angry at being violated or happy at the
sensation.   "You're nice and loose..."  I carried on
with the causal tone. "So I guess you get this all the
time?"

He remained silent, and I had to cause him a little
discomfort in his neck before he muttered "Yes."

"So he plays with your ass as he jerks you off?"

Again, the reluctance to reply, and only after he'd
grunted in pain did he utter "Yes", again.

I carried on probing with my finger, and knew I'd
struck home when his whole body shuddered with
pleasure.  "You like that, don't you, boy?  You like a
man to finger your hole, and really turn you on...."

"Fucking slave, leave me alone... Look, if you stop,
stop right now, we'll forget the whole thing..."

"And you'll stop taunting me?  Maybe even let me hang
out with you football jocks a bit?  I used to play,
you know..."

I knew then that he hadn't meant it, as he just
shouted "I don't bargain with slaves!  Now, let me up,
and I'll only demand that our owner gets the
whipmaster to lash you twelve times..."

Still holding his neck firmly with my one hand, I now
dropped my pants, and pushed my white briefs down my
thighs.  I wetted my dick with spit as best I could,
then parted his ass again, positioned the tip of my
dick at his hole, and pushed.

Look, I've fucked a lot of guys.  And I know when
someone's had dick up them before, as they know what
to do, and push back at you as you push in so the
muscles think you're going to crap and open up for
you.  Trent did just that, and he only cried out
because I'm long and thick, and all guys tend to do
that when I enter them.  I went all the way, though,
and stood there, feeling the delicious sensation of
the heat of his butt against my belly and thighs.

"So, Trent, you're experienced at taking dick..."

"Fuck you!"

"No, Trent... It's you who's going to get fucked...."
I began to push in and out of him, gently, actually,
as I didn't want him making too much noise.  His
little cries and moans turned to sighs of pleasure as
I went at it, but after a few minutes I was almost
bored, and I had to start thrusting really vigorously,
slamming my pubic bone into his ass, in order to get
myself to cum.  He was far from quiet as I did this,
and I was worried that someone might come to find out
what all the noise was about; but when you're in the
midst of a good fuck, you only worry about things like
that marginally, as it's much more important to finish
off, isn't it?

I pulled out of him then, and still holding his neck
in my vicelike grip, I pulled him to his feet so we
were both standing.  "Kneel down!", I commanded, and
as he tried to resist, I pinched my fingers a little
so that he understood that non-compliance meant pain,
and he sank to the floor in front of me.  I used his
long-ish wavy hair to clean his crap off my dick, and
then let him go so that I could pull up my briefs and
my pants - somehow it's rather undignified to stand
there with briefs around your thighs, don't you think?

"I'll have you whipped...", he started.

"I don't think so, Trent.  Not if you don't want all
the guys on the team to know how well you take dick,
and how you've come here to be jerked off, day after
day."

"They'll never believe a slave!  I'll say you raped
me, and that was the first time."

"And I'll tell them that you shave your hole and your
taint.... And I bet at least a couple of them might
grab you in the showers and take a look, just out of
curiosity... And then they'll wonder why you do that,
won't they?  Why would a man shave his hole and not
his balls, unless he wanted to make it nice and easy
for another guy's dick to slide in and out..."

"I'll tell them it's because the phys ed guy made
me..."

"...and you'll also tell  them about those little
sessions with his finger up your ass, as he jerks you
off?"

I just sneered at him as I pulled my briefs and pants
up and zipped up.  As he knelt there in front of me I
grabbed his chin and held it, and said, calmly and
quietly. "Look, Trent, believe me:  you don't want to
star slinging any mud around.  Sure it  would get me
whipped, but your reputation would be lost, as well.
I doubt they'd want you on the football team if they
knew what you did as a hobby.  So just keep your trap
shut, OK?  And make sure that in future there's no
more leading of the other guys in taunting me:  I
swear that the next time you do that I'll tell
everyone what you're really like."

With that I turned and left, laughing to myself about
how he'd now have to go and find a shower if he didn't
want the smell of his crap in his hair spoiling the
afternoon's classes.

In fact,  I didn't have any trouble with Trent from
then on - he was wary of me, and didn't provoke
problems, and even on one occasion called to a group
of guys who were taunting me that had better things to
do.  So all I now needed to do was fix the head of
phys ed, and after a couple of weeks when it all
seemed to have gone quiet on the Trent front, I felt
bold enough to act.

I've told you how he liked to sit there with me
standing in front of him as he jerked me off, and one
day it was happening as usual, with me feeling really
pissed off at having to stand therewith my pants
around my ankles and my briefs around my knees as he
fingers stroked me.  Just as I was about to cum, I
reached down and grabbed his wrist, and using all my
power and strength aimed my dick directly at his face!
 I shot a huge load, with a lot of force, and it went
all over him, covering his glasses, and sliding down
the valley of his nose and over his chin, to drip onto
his shirt and tie.

"What the fuck....?", he shouted, really pissed off
with what has happened.

"Oh, sorry", I said quietly.  "You know, I guess
that's a real problem.  It might happen again, almost
any time.  Still, it's only cum, isn't it.... It
washes out easily."

"I can't take this home... My wife would see it!"

"Well, sir, perhaps you'd better be more careful in
future.  Maybe you should confine your activities to
younger guys, regular fresh men, like Trent - you can
probably control them better than an older guy, like
me."

"You did it deliberately, slave!  And if you do it
again, I'll tell your owner..."

"And if you do, I'll tell your wife!  Now, I think
it's time we stopped all this.  I'm going to carry on
using the pool in the morning and the gym, and I don't
mind if you watch me trying on the jockstraps and
stuff you'll still find for me.  But no more jerking
off - well, not for me, at least.  Although I think
you should continue to work away at Trent, as he's a
bit of a hothead.  Do we understand each other?"

As I said this, I reached down and wiped a little of
the cum that was still oozing out of my dick onto my
finger, then reached towards him, pushing my finger at
his lips.

"Get that away from me, you're disgusting ...."

"Sorry, sir... I thought you liked cum.  I don't mind
eating it, as you've seen me do, often.  But next
time, who knows what might happen?  If I don't shoot
it all over you again, and do catch it in my hand as
you like me to, you might find that hand all over your
face.  I'm very strong, sir, as you know.... And you
can't really stop me, can you?"  As I said this, I
pushed my finger towards his lips again, and although
he grasped my wrist with his hands, he discovered that
what I'd said was true:  I really am strong, and he
had to sit there as I smeared my cum over his lips.

"Get out!", he screamed at me.  "Get out, and don't
come back..."

"Sir, I will be back.  I need fresh gym stuff, and
you've got to find it for me.  And I've decided that
you're so pathetically weak, that you need help:  so
get Trent in here tomorrow, and then when you have him
strip and start to jerk him off, I'll watch, just in
case you need any assistance in subduing him.    He
won't mind, I'm sure, as he and I have a kind of,
well, understanding, you might call it!".

I felt really good all afternoon, knowing that I'd now
fixed the bastard, and from time to time, it wouldn't
hurt Trent for me to see his humiliation.

End Of Part 24